


The Sea Said We’d Meet

by BananaChef



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brienne Tarth: master of emasculation, Cersei Lannister and Jaime Lannister Are Not Related, Hyle Hunt is a Cunt, I'm A Trash Can Not A Trash Can't, Jaime Lannister Has Issues, King's Landing, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Brienne of Tarth, POV Jaime Lannister, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Pod's so sweet, Rating May Change, Single Parent Jaime Lannister, Social Anxiety, Surfing, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, brienne has anxiety and tho i don't think it's social fuck it i have social anxiety, i love: him, i'm kind of surprised that's not a tag???, if d&d won't give me rep ig i'll have to do it myself, we love hot single dads in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaChef/pseuds/BananaChef
Summary: One fateful day on a beach in King’s Landing changes Brienne and Jaime’s lives forever.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 48





	1. Brienne I

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this was brought on by my friend and I watching _Soul Surfer_ and by reading the fic [Breathing Underwater](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122315/chapters/55326868l).
> 
> Big thanks to all of my JB moots who listen to me rant and randomly "update" on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bananachefuwu), which you can do, too!
> 
> Important things to know going into this work:  
> \- updates are very irregular  
> \- there's a lot of background relationships, but the main one _is_ JB  
> \- on character tags: if the character is going to speak in more than one scene, they get a tag  
> \- in addition to appropriate tagging, I'll put a warning for any potentially triggering content/smut in the notes of the beginning of any relevant chapters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne’s dealt with a lot of people like Jaime before. Or has she? Her encounter with the seemingly half-god, half-man leaves her reeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my friend Mari for bouncing around ideas and for everyone who encouraged me with my blind fic poll on Twitter!

Brienne sprinted down the beach to the water, wading through until it was deep enough to climb on her surfboard. Most of her life had been like this, although surfing in King’s Landing was crazier than back home. Tarth wasn’t a densely inhabited island, with a population of only a few hundred thousand, which is why it was jarring to see so many people out on the beach. By Brienne’s estimations, there must’ve been at least a few hundred people at this beach alone—more than there’d ever been on the beaches of Tarth since the people there spread out on the multitudes of beaches on the island.

The waves here in King’s Landing weren’t as tumultuous as Tarth’s beaches but they were still good for surfing. Brienne had to keep up her skill if she was going to participate in Tarth’s annual surfing competition; it was famous around Westeros for being the largest one. Surfing legends from all around the known world traveled to Tarth to compete, and this year Brienne was determined to become one of them. She had a lot to gain and a lot to lose since her father was Selwyn Tarth, a renowned surfer. Back when he was still surfing competitively, he won Tarth’s competition five years in a row. But that was all before he settled down with her mother and had Brienne and her siblings. In addition, Brienne’s ancestors founded the original colony on Tarth, hence the shared names.

The competition wasn’t until December, though, which left her around ten months to compete in King’s Landing’s competitions. Brienne was still working on her master’s degree in computer science, which she was _finally_ finishing this year. Along with that, she needed to look for a place in the city—she couldn’t very well stay living in the campus dorms with her roommates Margaery and Ygritte, could she?

While she was thinking, she swam out into the ocean until the waves started getting large enough to ride. Podrick’s lesson was in ten minutes—less now—but Brienne was determined to fit in at least one wave beforehand as a warm-up. The feel of waves crashing into her face and the sound of seagulls flying overhead made it easy for her to pretend she was back home, braving the waters of the private beach behind her childhood house. Brienne wiped the salty water off her face and scanned the ocean for a good wave to ride back to shore.

She spied one, riding high above the sea level, perfect for surfing. She paddled onward, timing her turnaround just right—

“‘Scuse me, I’ll just be taking this one!”

A man paddled up to the wave, turning himself around on his board as Brienne caught the wave a few seconds ahead of him. _Seven hells,_ she swore internally.

“There’s another wave you could’ve caught!” she yelled over the sound of rushing water. “Or you could’ve caught this one farther away!?”

The man laughed, his golden hair shining in the sunlight as he maintained a good gap between them. “This one suits me just fine!”

Brienne had dealt with men like this one before; ones who thought they were better than everyone else by virtue of their looks or skills. She always took them down a notch when they lost an arm wrestle to her or were emasculated by a strategically placed comment. This man was about to be shown just how much of a dick he was: surf style. Brienne had been in the ocean for as long as she could remember; if this guy thought he was better at surfing than her (and gods forbid it if he was sexist, too), he was about to be schooled.

She managed to splash him in the face with a sharp turn, momentarily distracting him, but he didn’t fall off his board. _Maybe he’s better than I gave him credit for..._

“You don’t need to play dirty, you know!” the golden man shouted with a grin.

“I wasn’t the one who stole a wave, was I?” Brienne shouted back, keeping herself steady.

Golden-boy was far enough away for her to attempt a flip, which she hadn’t done in a while. _That ought to shut him up for a bit._ Brienne took stock of her surroundings, readied herself, and suddenly she was riding the side of the wave—she was upside down for less than a second, but it was exhilarating. She landed back in the water, the wave picking her up again as she caught her balance.

Brienne looked over at the man, finding him gazing at her, mouth slightly agape. _Did he only just realize how ungainly I am? He’d never openly gaze like that—men like him never do._ They washed up on shore shortly afterward, breathing heavily. Golden-boy—no, he was more god than man, let alone boy—approached her as he pushed back his sopping golden locks.

Brienne spoke before the golden god-man could even open his mouth. “You’re a right foul git.”

He laughed, the late-morning sunlight highlighting his magnificent body. “Am I? All I wanted was a good wave. All things considered, I think we did pretty well—”

He stopped when she lodged her surfboard into the sand and stalked over to him. “I’ve spent my entire life dealing with men like you.”

“Men like me?” god-man repeated with a smirk, raising a perfect eyebrow.

“Yes, men like you, who believe that just because you’re hot and—”

“You think I’m hot?”

He’s not a god-man, he’s a _devil_ -man. Brienne blushed but continued. “—have women trailing after you makes you better than everyone else. Half of the time you’re also sexist bigots.”

Devil-man seemed to really notice her for the first time—or perhaps her height. He trailed his eyes down her body, taking his time on her legs. Suddenly she was self-conscious of the fact that she was wearing a bikini. _Thanks, Ygritte._

“You’ll be glad to know that I’m no sexist bigot, then,” he responded, looking her in the eyes. “Let me be the first ‘hot man who believed he’s better than you’ to congratulate you on being better than me.”

Golden-man stuck out his left hand for Brienne to shake, and after a moment, she did, albeit warily. “What’s your name? Mine’s Brienne,” she asked curiously. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Jaime.” He smiled at her before starting away along the beach, still facing her. “See you around, Brienne!”

He jogged off in the direction of a group of people—three adults and three kids—surfboard tucked under his right arm. _Maybe he really is half-god, half-man._

* * *

Brienne found Pod waiting for her at their usual location by the pier, his parents seated at an outdoor table of the bustling seaside restaurant Storm’s End. Podrick was a scrawny fifteen-year-old (“I’m almost sixteen, now, Brienne!”) with a bright smile that spoke of innocence. Today, he was wearing a blue and orange one-piece swimsuit; his suits were always one-pieces, and she never questioned it.

“Brienne!” he grinned, grabbing his board from where he’d stuck it in the grassy sand.

“Hey, Pod! Sorry I’m late, got caught up with a good wave.” Brienne smiled at the boy and then at his parents, who waved them off to the sea. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! School’s been pretty easy lately and I was able to audition for the musical. Callbacks are gonna be posted tomorrow, so I’m gonna check before homeroom to see if I made it!”

“That’s amazing!” she told him with a grin. “Maybe I’ll be able to go if I’m free!”

Pod’s eyes grew large. “You’d do that?”

“Of course!”

The boy laughed and threw his arms around Brienne, squeezing her tight. “You’re the best.”

The waves in the water by the pier were much gentler due to all the development nearby; sea animals would often visit if the weather was nice, but the boating club seemed to have scared them all off. Blackwater Bay stretched off toward the horizon as Brienne and Pod deftly evaded the nasty undertow a few meters out to sea on their surfboards.

She started with the drills they’d been doing to practice balance. _I wonder who those people were in relation to Jaime._ Then she had him catch a small wave laying down to get the feel for it. _Jaime has such good hair. It practically shines in the sunlight._ Pod declared that he was ready to catch a wave, and Brienne promised she’d be there if he fell.

She almost missed it because she got lost in her thoughts about Jaime. _His abs... Shit! Pod!_ Brienne paddled over to where he fell in the water, fear gripping her for a moment before he popped up out of the water, a grin on his face.

“I lasted longer than I thought!” he cheered, climbing back on his board.

“That’s good,” she laughed, sitting up on her board. “Why don’t you catch a few more and we’ll call it a day, yeah?”

“Sounds good!”

When Pod was done, the two paddled back to shore and walked back to Pod’s parents. They both toweled off, and Brienne took her fee with a smile, shoving it in her wallet before checking the time on her phone. _12:47. Still a few hours until I need to get to the Starks’._ Catelyn was like a mother to her—she could probably go early and stay until Cat and her husband, Ned, left for their date. Her dorm was too far away from the beach and the Stark house for it to be a feasible trip, but the Starks were like a second family to Brienne. It would be good to see them again.

* * *

Brienne rang the doorbell of the Starks’ house, standing in front of the large, wooden doors. They lived in one of the houses in the gated community The Red Keep, named for the keep that had once stood upon Aegon’s Hill centuries ago.

The Keep sat upon the highest portion of Aegon’s Hill, a sort of cul de sac with a path on the opposite side of the entrance leading to a field. It was closed off with a sturdy rock-and-mortar fence, and from that vantage point, you could see the houses terraced along the steeper side of Aegon’s Hill; farther on, you could see one of King’s Landing’s beaches and Blackwater Bay stretching out toward the Narrow Sea.

Brienne wished she could just get straight back in the Uber and book a ticket to Tarth. She hadn’t been home since Year-End Solstice, and she missed her parents and siblings: her older brother Galladon and her younger twin sisters Arianne and Alysanne. Brienne couldn’t, though; homesick as she was, King’s Landing was as much her home as Evenfall.

The giant doors opened, revealing the eldest Stark child, Robb. He was only three years younger than her, though they’d never grown as close as Brienne had with Sansa. They both grinned as she stepped inside the house at Robb’s silent invitation.

“Hey, Brienne! You’re early. Mum and Dad aren’t leaving for a few hours yet. Do you want me to get them?” He rubbed a hand over his meager beard, the same auburn color as Catelyn’s hair.

“It’s fine, Robb,” she told him, hanging her coat in the closet before toeing off her shoes. “It just wasn’t worth the drive from the beach to my dorm and then back here. I hate to ask, but can I raid your fridge? I didn’t stop to eat before I left, so I’ve only eaten some granola bars since breakfast this morning.”

Robb laughed, heading to the kitchen with Brienne. “Sure, take what you want. Mum and Dad’ll probably make dinner in a couple hours, though, so don’t eat too much.”

“Duly noted. When are you leaving?” She opened the fridge and found a promising piece of pizza to tide her over until dinner, sticking it in the microwave.

Robb was old enough to watch over his siblings at twenty-one years old, along with his sister Sansa, who was eighteen, so it was only common sense that he was going somewhere. Cat and Ned would’ve left him in charge if he wasn’t, or even Sansa.

“Any second now, actually. It’s Theon’s birthday, so we’re going out for drinks to celebrate. Bran and Arya are playing Fortnite together with some of her friends. Don’t mention it to Rickon—he got kicked off for throwing a tantrum when they teamed up against him a few rounds ago. Sansa’s gone to the mall with some of her friends, too, so she probably won’t be back until after dinner.”

Brienne opened the microwave when it beeped and closed it as she blew on the piece of pizza. “Good to know I won’t have to handle the three crazies by myself the whole night.”

“I don’t know, Sansa might go out for drinks, too. She’s been doing that on the weekends a lot ever since her birthday.” Robb grinned as Brienne sighed and took a bite of her pizza. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, reading something before turning it off. “Gotta go. Theon’s here with the rest of the guys. See you in the morning, Brienne!”

He walked down the hall and slipped on sandals, grabbing his wallet from his cubby by the entrance as he waved to Brienne. “Bye, Robb,” she managed through her mouthful of food.

“Hey, Mum! Brienne’s in the kitchen. She’s gonna stay for dinner.” He paused as Catelyn yelled down to him from the upstairs office. “Gotta go, Mum! Theon’s here. I’ll be back for breakfast, don’t worry. Bye, Dad.” He poked his head into the living room as Brienne sat down on the couch to watch Arya and Bran play. “Bye guys. I’ll be back for breakfast.” He flashed her a smile before exiting the house.

Arya and Bran hadn’t paid any attention to their older brother, instead focussing on the game. Bran’s wheelchair was parked around the middle of the room with his sister sitting in a chair next to him. They were wearing expensive-looking headphones with microphones attached, and every so often they’d whoop excitedly or talk to the other players.

“Hot Pie, go round the corner, there’s some ammo there,” Arya commanded, sitting forward in her chair. “Jojen and Meera are building on the hill to the left, so once you get it, sprint back there. Bran and I will cover you.”

Catelyn came downstairs then, ruffling Bran and Arya’s hair as she made her way to Brienne. She smiled brightly at the young woman as she sat down next to her, covering her legs with a blanket despite the temperature; Ned jokingly referred to his wife as “cold-blooded” since her hands and feet were always cold.

“How are you?” Catelyn asked, resting her face on her hand, which was propped up on a pile of pillows at the corner of the L-shaped couch. “It’s been a while since you came over last. College getting the best of you?”

Brienne finished chewing her last bite of pizza before responding. “I’m good. I’ve been doing extra surfing lessons to save up for a flat in the city I can rent until I go back to Tarth. It’s a lot of work when you add in all the assignments from my classes and my thesis paper. Good news is that once June hits, I’ll be done with it all—only rent to pay and jobs to work in between surfing practice.”

Catelyn smiled and squeezed Brienne’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you. And if you ever need a place to stay—I know residential areas are expensive—our door is open. Ned and I are always happy to have you over.”

She was touched by Cat’s motherly words, as she was every time the older woman said something like that. Brienne had a mother that she loved dearly, but she was back on Tarth. (But she would bombard her daughter with handfuls of WhiteBook memes every so often, and though Brienne never found them funny, she never wanted them to stop coming.) Catelyn was the closest thing she had to a mother figure in King’s Landing; they’d met in one of Brienne’s college classes. Cat taught at Baelor’s University along with Ned and without them, Brienne never would’ve gotten to where she was.

“Thanks, Cat. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Just then, Rickon came running into the room, holding a broken toy. His eyes were wide and his chin was trembling. “Daddy said to bring it to you ‘cause he’s busy. Can you fix it?”

“I’ll try, baby. I’ll try.” She kissed the top of his head as she stood up from the couch, smiling apologetically at Brienne. “Why don’t you do something with Brienne while I fix it, Ricky?”

“Okay!” the nine-year-old replied, waiting until his mother left the room to start poking Arya on the shoulder. “Hey. Hey. Hey! Arya—”

Brienne took his hand and led him away from his siblings. “Let’s not do that, Ricky. Why don’t we play on the Switch together? Mario Kart? I hope you’ve been practicing since we played last...”

* * *

After several rounds of Mario Kart and some Minecraft, Brienne took Rickon into the backyard to play with the dogs, large Frostfang Malamute rescues. Afterward, the two played some soccer, then volleyball, and then football, all with the dogs in play. She hadn’t known the Starks when Ned, Robb, and the kids’ cousin, Jon, had found the dogs as pups on a hiking trip, but she knew that each kid had one, along with one for Jon. (If she recalled correctly, Grey Wind was Robb’s, Lady was Sansa’s, Nymeria was Arya’s, Summer was Bran’s, and Shaggydog was Rickon’s.) When Brienne thought she couldn’t play much longer, Ned opened the back door, poking his head out.

“Dinner’s ready! Come and eat, you two! It’s lasagna!”

Rickon dropped the football on the grass with a “Yes!” before running to the door, leaving Brienne to put away all the toys.

“Need any help?” Ned asked, ruffling Rickon’s hair as he squeezed past his father into the kitchen.

“No, I’m good! I’ll be in in a minute.”

He nodded, sliding the door closed; Brienne dumped all of the toys into the bin against the wall before heading inside to the smell of the Starks’ delicious lasagna. Rickon, Arya, and Bran were already seated at the dining room table, the twelve-year-old boy placed at the end of the table in his wheelchair.

“I like what you’ve done with your hair, Arya,” Brienne complimented, sitting on the other side of Bran. “The blue suits your eyes.”

The feisty fifteen-year-old grinned, grey eyes lighting up. “Thanks, Brienne.” She leaned over the table and Brienne did the same. “Mum didn’t want me to dye it but dad convinced her that I’m old enough,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“That’s good,” the older woman whispered back with a smile.

“Hey, hair off the table!” Bran complained, and the two leaned away.

“Sorry, Bran,” Brienne apologized as Catelyn and Ned brought out the food. “This smells delicious, guys.”

“Mum’s lasagna is the best,” Bran told her, closing his book before putting it in the pocket on the back of his wheelchair.

Ned gasped in fake offense as he filled everyone’s glasses with water before sitting down. “Now, you know I help your mum make dinner most nights, and sometimes I do it by myself.”

Arya snorted into her cup as she took a sip and Bran laughed. “More like distract her,” Rickon corrected from his seat next to Arya, grinning at his siblings.

Everyone laughed before starting piling their plates with food, eating and chatting. Before long, the lasagna was gone and dessert was brought out: bowls of chocolate ice cream for anyone who wanted some. Brienne declined, full from dinner, and talked about how her thesis was going with Ned and Cat as the kids chatted about stan Twitter and future video game releases. When everyone was done eating, Brienne collected the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher as Ned and Cat went upstairs to get ready for their date.

“Just remember, Rickon’s bedtime is twenty, Bran’s is twenty-one, and Arya’s is twenty-three. They’re old enough to do everything themselves so all you’ll need to do is kick them off their electronics. If any of them give you grief just say you’ll text Ned—he’s pretty scary when he’s angry.”

Catelyn shrugged on a sweater and slipped on some sandals as Ned did the same, each parent hugging and kissing the kids.

“If Sansa or Robb comes home drunk, confine them each to a bathroom, please,” Ned instructed with a small smile. “I don’t want them retching anywhere else.”

“Noted,” Brienne responded with a nod. “I’ll keep them all in line, don’t worry. Just have a good night out.”

True to her word, the night went without a single hitch. She even got the three of them to play Mario Kart together with her for a while, and then they all went off in their separate directions; Arya to her room, Bran to the Playstation, and Rickon still on the Nintendo Switch, playing Animal Crossing.

Brienne decided to log onto the family computer to do some schoolwork, and before long, it was time for Rickon to go to bed, so she sent him upstairs. After some more work, she sent Bran upstairs too. When it came time for Arya to get to sleep, she checked on the young girl and found her sacked out in bed. Brienne smiled and shut off the lights, heading downstairs and sitting on the couch; she pulled out her phone and earbuds, plugging them in and playing some music.

She fell asleep to Taylor Swift’s _Dress_ and thoughts of a golden-haired man with a jawline and abs to die for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: single-dad Jaime appears!


	2. Jaime I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime loves his kids more than anything else in the world, and he would do anything for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked my ass off all day trying to finish this in time since I’ve been kind of sick for the past few days, but here’s chapter two like I promised. <3

Jaime loved to surf. He’d surfed whenever he found the time back home in Casterly all his life; between schoolwork, the pressure he got from his father, Tywin, and his demanding girlfriend, Cersei, surfing was his only reprieve. He surfed whenever he could in King’s Landing as well, and today was a beach day. The sand beneath his feet and between his toes, the smell of the salt that signaled the ocean—it felt like home, especially with his family there. His true family.

His kids were his entire life now. Everything he did was for his family; everything he’d done to Cersei during the divorce was for the kids’ sake. So Joffrey could be a normal teen; so Myrcella could be a carefree young girl; so Tommen could be a spritely young boy.

“Westeros to Jaime, everything okay up there?” Tyrion looked up at Jaime through his sunglasses, a large sun hat perched on his head. “Hello...?”

“I’m here, just got distracted,” Jaime responded, smiling down at his brother.

“Well? Stop being distracted and go put up the umbrella,” his younger brother jested with a small smile. “My wives and I don’t wanna get sunburnt because you took too long making goo-goo eyes at the ocean.”

“I was _not_ making goo-goo eyes at the ocean. Also, just put some sunscreen on. I’m sure your wives would love to help.”

Tyrion’s shit-eating smile told him that his brother didn’t believe him, so Jaime ruffled his brother’s hair. He attempted to duck out of the way but Jaime trapped him with his right arm, laughing as his brother struggled to get away.

He finally let his brother go, laughing as he set up the umbrella. “Make sure the kids don’t get into any trouble, please,” Jaime requested to Shae and Tysha, ignoring Tyrion as he sprayed himself with sunscreen. He turned to Tommen and Myrcella, who each had an aunt applying sunscreen to them. “I’ll be back after a wave or two and then we can play!”

They both grinned and Jaime turned to his eldest, Joffrey, who was sitting in a chair under the umbrella, playing on his phone. The twelve-year-old crossed his ankles and continued playing. “When I come back, we’re going swimming.”

“I’m busy,” Joff replied curtly, not looking up from his phone.

“And then you’re going in the water. You can play on your phone at home, come on! Do it for me?” Jaime knelt in front of him, pouting.

Joffrey lasted a few seconds before he smiled. “Fine.”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Not a kid!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m going!”

Jaime picked up his surfboard from where he’d wedged it in the sand and jogged to the waves lapping at the sand, wading into the cold, salty water. It felt like home.

* * *

He realized this woman was different than the others he’d encountered over the years when she stalked over to him after they washed ashore. Most women he encountered didn’t call him a “right foul git” or accuse him of being a sexist bigot. That’s what really got his attention—what sort of asswipes would challenge _her_? This woman could easily overpower him and he’d say thank you.

She was tall—taller than him, he noted happily—and strong, too, with platinum blond hair that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright blue that made him acutely aware of the ocean to his left and her legs seemed to go on for miles.

But perhaps he’d been too enthusiastic; she clearly hadn’t appreciated his cheerful antagonism. “You’ll be glad to know that I’m no sexist bigot, then,” Jaime told her, looking her in the eyes— _astonishing blue eyes_. “Let me be the first ‘hot man who believed he’s better than you’ to congratulate you on being better than me.”

He stuck out his hand for her to shake and gave her his name when she asked. Maybe she’d be around next Sunday and they’d see each other again—maybe she’d overpower him if he kept antagonizing her.

“See you around, Brienne!” Jaime told her, hoping beyond hope that he would as he jogged back to his family.

* * *

Jaime only went to the beach on Sundays since he was busy every other day of the week with work and getting the kids to and from after school activities. He referred to Sunday as “Beach Day” and would enthusiastically wake up the kids bright and early to spend a day on the beach. Sometimes friends or family would come along too, and this time Tyrion came with Shae and Tysha, which meant he could go surfing on his own. He was a bit rusty, but it had felt great to be back on his surfboard, even for such a short amount of time.

“Alright, family! It’s Beach Day, and we’re at the beach, which means it’s time to get wet! To the ocean we go!” He grabbed Tommen’s hand with his own and Myrcella held onto his stump, both of them grinning. “Come on, Joff! Just ten minutes.”

Tyrion sighed and got out of his chair, walking over to his nephew. “Get up, Joffrey, come on. You can do your own thing when you learn to drive.”

The twelve-year-old rolled his eyes but obeyed, turning off his phone and getting out of his chair. Jaime grinned, jogging over to the beach with the younger two as Joffrey put on sunscreen. Myrcella shrieked delightedly, splashing around in the water as Tommen swam out a little further with a grin on his face.

“Get your butt over here, Joff, or I’m giving you a wet hug!” Jaime shouted to his son, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“I’m coming!” he shouted back, squinting as he walked over to the waves lapping at the sand. Joff stopped once he was ankle-deep. “Happy now?”

Jaime cocked his head, raising an eyebrow at his eldest. “It can’t be that bad, Joff. Just let loose for ten minutes and you can hole up with your phone again, I promise.”

“Fine,” he answered after a moment, wading farther into the water.

“Thank you,” Jaime said with a smile, trapping Joffrey in a hug. “Tommen, Myrcella, get over here! Family hug! Joff’s in need of some extra loving!”

Joffrey’s siblings waded through the water to trap their older brother in a hug with their dad as he squirmed, trying to break free.

“We love you, Joffrey!” Myrcella yelled, dragging out the last syllable of his name.

“You can’t escape, Joff,” Tommen giggled. “We’ve got you trapped.”

Joffrey sighed, resigning himself to being hugged and squeezed. A small smile slipped on his face and his hands tentatively wrapped around his dad. Suddenly Jaime’s eyes pricked with tears, and he brought his hand up to his son’s head, brushing through Joffrey’s blond hair.

Jaime sometimes wished that he wasn’t so hateful—that he’d been able to get away from Cersei before she’d had the chance to hurt Joffrey as she did. Whatever his ex-wife had done to Joffrey had traumatized him and caused him to close off as well as rebel at school; he was sullen and angry all the time, constantly starting arguments with his classmates. Jaime wished he could just go inside his son’s head and know what Cersei had done to hurt him so he could fix it all.

“I’m here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Joffrey’s head. “I’ll always be here.”

* * *

A few hours later, all seven members of Jaime’s party packed up their belongings, Shae and Tysha helping Tommen and Myrcella to dry off and put on their beach clothes. Tyrion put away all the snacks and refreshments they’d brought as Jaime packed up all the chairs and folded up the umbrella.

“We’ll head over to Storm’s End and pick a table for us,” Tyrion said, leading his niece and nephews toward the pier.

Jaime nodded and he, Shae, and Tysha hauled everything to the cars, loading the trunks with all of their belongings.

“I’m glad you guys came today,” he said, closing the trunk of his car before locking it. “Surfing again felt good even if it was only one wave.”

“You know we all love to spend time with you and the kids, Jaime,” Shae replied with a smile, closing the trunk of her family’s car.

“Every time I see them it seems like they’ve gotten taller. Joff might even end up taller than you,” Tysha laughed as the three of them started walking to the pier.

They continued chatting until they reached the seaside restaurant, quickly locating the table that Tyrion and the kids had chosen. Storm’s End was filled around halfway with the early afternoon customers, an amiable chatter surrounding Jaime and his family. The owners—boyfriends Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell—bussed tables and took orders along with their employees on occasion, such as today.

“Hey, guys!” Loras chirped, grinning at the group of seven. “Glad to see the lions again! How’s your roar coming, Tommen?”

The seven-year-old mimicked a lion’s roar as best he could, showing off a missing tooth. “Gods, you sound just like a real one! You could scare off a dragon!”

He took their drink orders with a grin and a laugh before walking off to the kitchens, leaving the seven of them with three enticing children’s activity placemats and five boxes of crayons. By the time Loras came back with their drinks, two Storm’s End castles were being colored and an Age of Heroes crossword puzzle was completed.

“Beer for Monsieur Lannister and his ladies...” he started, carefully setting down Tyrion, Tysha, and Shae’s drinks. “Lemonade for the dad of the year, along with water for the lion cubs! Alright, ready to order?” At Jaime’s nod, Loras continued. “Will it be your usuals or something new to change it up?”

“I’ll have my usual Caesar salad, Loras,” Jaime replied before checking in with Tommen and Myrcella. “Tom will have his usual as well as Myrcella. Joff?”

“Usual,” Joffrey responded, buried in his phone.

“Good... And the other lions?” the young man inquired, writing down their orders.

“I’ll have the...grilled shrimp with onions,” Tyrion said, and collected everyone’s menus as Shae and Tysha ordered, placing them in a stack at the edge of the table.

“Alright! Renly and I will be back with the food in a short while! Glad to see you back, Tyrion. You two as well,” Loras said with a smile to Tysha and Shae.

“So. How’s school been, Joff? Getting straight A’s?” Tyrion asked, sipping his beverage with raised eyebrows.

Jaime rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics as he took a sip of lemonade and resumed coloring Myrcella’s pink and purple Storm’s End castle with his daughter.

“Sure,” his son replied, still buried in his phone.

Jaime’s brother sighed heavily and turned to Tommen, who was coloring Storm’s End as a rainbow. “What about you, Tom? Getting good grades?”

He didn’t look up from his work as he grinned and answered. “Yep! The new student teacher’s really nice, too.”

“That’s good.” Tyrion’s phone buzzed and he took it out, only to tap on the screen and put it back in his pocket. “Father,” he clarified at Jaime’s raised eyebrow.

Jaime grunted, setting down his own crayons to take out his phone and check for calls from Tywin. There were several. _Gods, whatever it is must be important if he’s asking Tyrion as well._

> **Jaime:** I’ll call you when I get home
> 
> **Jaime:** It’s beach day
> 
> **Jaime:** Should be home in an hour or two
> 
> _What’s_ _so important that you had to call_ _Tyrion_ _?_

_That’s a terrible idea and a surefire way to be reprimanded, dumbass. Delete._ So he did, and left the conversation at that. “Whatever he wants must be important.”

His brother snorted, taking a large gulp of his beer as his wives chatted with the kids. “To _him._ Probably not as much to either of us.”

“At least Mom’s around to temper him. We’d be even shittier people than we are now if she wasn’t.” Jaime laughed with his brother before going back to Myrcella’s paper placemat.

A short while later, Renly and Loras came out of the kitchens balancing trays laden with their food. “Caesar salad for Jaime,” Renly recited, serving the older man.

“Thank you...” Jaime said absentmindedly.

“Will Loras and I see you guys at the gala on Friday? Apparently everyone and their mom’s going,” Renly laughed as he and his boyfriend dished out everyone else’s dishes.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I wasn’t planning on it but I might need to rep the business. I already donate monthly to the general charity fund; you know the weight the Lannister name holds. Gotta keep it that way or we won’t get as many clients—so says my father, at least. I doubt the situation is as grave as he makes it sound but it’s really not worth making a fuss over.”

“Tywin would probably sell his soul to the devil for success if not for Joanna,” Loras snorted, and the adults all murmured agreement.

“Well, enjoy your food and if any of you go to the gala, come find us. It’s sure to be filled with boring people but us gays know how to party.” Renly nudged his boyfriend in the hip with a grin before they headed back to the kitchen.

Jaime put the gala and his father toward the back of his mind in favor of savoring this peaceful lunch with his family, getting caught up with Tyrion, Tysha, and Shae. Beach Days were for relaxing and forgetting about the regular stressors of his life; the beach and Storm’s End and the pier were his safe space. No one could touch that or change it—he’d somehow known that even when his mind was full of Cersei.

She’d never liked the beach. That probably should have been the first strike in their relationship, but Jaime had looked past it. Cersei had said _I love you_ and filled his thoughts full of a family and a peaceful life. _I should’ve known it was a lie,_ he thought. She’d never even liked kids—even actively avoided Tyrion whenever she’d visited.

Unbidden, he thought of Brienne from the beach. She was the exact opposite of Cersei: extremely tall, muscly, and outwardly aggressive. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Jaime.” His brother’s gaze bored into him as if he knew that Jaime was thinking about his ex-wife.

“Sorry,” he apologized ruefully.

“Stay in the present,” Tyrion advised before turning away.

_Stay in the present. Right._

* * *

“Okay, put the swimsuits and towels in the bin for washing and then you’re free to go your own way,” Jaime announced as soon as he walked in the door with the kids.

After doing as they were told, the kids each went off in their separate directions; Myrcella to the toy room, Tommen to the Xbox, and Joffrey to his bedroom. Jaime picked up the bin and brought it to the laundry room, throwing the towels into the washing machine and setting it to gentle wash before tossing their bathing suits into the sink. _I wonder what Brienne’s doing,_ he wondered, unbidden—again.

Leaving the swimsuits to soak in the sink filled with water and a squirt of soap, he took out his phone and called Tywin, putting it on speaker. Jaime’s father picked up after precisely three rings, as per usual. “Hey, Dad.”

“Good afternoon, son. To be concise, since I have work to get to, I need you to go to the gala on Friday.” He sounded tired and resigned as the sound of shuffling papers transmitting through the call.

Jaime could almost see his father sitting in his office all the way in Casterly Rock, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he flipped through pages, pausing every five to lick his forefinger. He’d never understood the point of that.

“Is that really necessary? I don’t even know if Pia’s available that night—”

“You’ll bring the kids. I have tickets for each of you, including Tyrion, and...his wives. I need you to represent the King’s Landing branch of the firm.”

Jaime didn’t even bother arguing; what was the point? His father never budged when it came to Lannister Law. Not once in his thirty years of life had Jaime ever seen his father allow less than perfection. Joanna, however...his mother was a different story. She was only ever kind and loving to him and Tyrion.

“Alright,” Jaime finally sighed, taking out one of the bathing suits to hang it up so it would dry. “Is there anything specific you need me to do?”

In the ensuing silence, Tywin’s stern gaze somehow seemed to transmit through his phone. “Don’t do anything rash and keep the kids in check.”

“Right,” he laughed ruefully before sighing. “Say hi to Mom for me.”

“Will do,” Tywin replied before hanging up.

Jaime knew his father had no intention of following through on that. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temple; conversations with Tywin were always draining. On an impulse, he unlocked his phone again.

> **Jaime:** Love you, Mom ❤

* * *

Hours later, he pulled up a chair in between Tommen and Myrcella’s beds, _The Bear and the Maiden Fair_ in his hands. The lamp on the bedside table was the only source of light in the room as Jaime opened the book to the title page.

“The Bear and the Maiden Fair,” he read softly. Both children were tucked soundly under the thin blankets of their beds, golden-haired heads resting on their pillows as they watched their dad read. “Once upon a time, there was a maiden with hair spun like gold, and a knight with golden armor. They met by chance in the dead of night...”

By the time Jaime was done reading, both children were fast asleep, so he gently stood up and turned off the lamp, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads before pulling the chair back to the desk, putting the book back on the bookshelf, and shutting the door quietly. He stopped by Joffrey’s room to find him fast asleep, phone right by one of his hands. Jaime turned off the lights and plugged his son’s phone in to charge before pressing a kiss to Joff’s head and leaving.

Sometimes he wished he didn’t need to work so often on weekdays. He made the kids breakfast when he could and picked them up after school and extracurriculars when he could—but to him, it wasn’t enough.

“Why don’t you quit then?” Tyrion had asked him once over a bottle of red arbor.

“So the kids can have cars when they’re old enough to drive. So they can afford good colleges without so much of the pressure to get scholarships to pay for it all. Everything I’ve done since Joff was born has been for them—so they could have a good life. I already cut a lot of corners with cases at work to be with them.” He’d drained his glass then. “I have a good balance of suffering at work and reprieve with the kids. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Tyrion had nodded his head to the side and raised his drink up as Jaime had poured some more for himself. “Here’s to not raising mentally fucked up kids.” Their glasses had clinked and then the brothers had drunk.

Presently, he climbed into bed after changing out of his clothes and brushing his teeth (as well as flossing and rinsing his mouth). After struggling to fall asleep, fatigue finally claimed Jaime with thoughts of the tall, young blond from the beach: Brienne.

_She’s very strong... And her eyes...astonishing blue eyes._


	3. Brienne II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne spends time with her friends, both old and new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, ngl this chapter is late because of the Harrenhal bath scene smutfic I posted last week... But I really tried to finish it for yesterday (a Sunday)...and failed because I got super tired around 9 PM so yeah. But here is chapter three!

A man was leading her down a hallway, all soft halos of golden light and bright smiles at Brienne as if she were the greatest beauty he’d ever seen. _But that can’t be, everyone knows I’m ugly._ Still, the man—Renly?—led her down the hallway, farther and farther, their fingers laced together, until they reached a door. Somehow Brienne knew it was his bedroom. And that they were... _Oh._ It wasn’t Renly, he would never want her, and he didn’t have the golden locks this man had.

The golden-haired man opened the door to his bedroom and pulled her inside, turning to face Brienne as he shut the door. She recognized that face, with the devilish smirk and enchanting green eyes; his shirt was opened, revealing his defined chest, and she dared to touch (not feel, her subconscious said), to catalog. Next thing she knew they were kissing and her body was burning up under his touch.

“Jaime...”

Brienne was vaguely aware of his hands shaking her shoulders—wait, no, not his—Sansa’s. “Brienne, wake up. It’s time for breakfast.” She groaned, trying to snuggle into Jaime’s bed—no, the Starks’ couch. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon, come on. Your phone alarm’s going off.” At that, Brienne opened her eyes widely before closing them against the sunlight.

“Shit,” she murmured, sitting up with a yawn as she fumbled to stop the buzzing of her phone. “Which alarm is it? The first one? Please say it’s the eight o’clock alarm.”

Sansa laughed as she rubbed her face, beautiful even in her sleep-rumpled state. “Don’t worry, it’s the eight o’clock alarm.” She stretched, Brienne’s yawn passing on.

The tall blond sagged against the couch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before Sansa tugged her up. “Alright, I’m coming. You know I wouldn’t miss Ned and Cat’s cooking.”

“Good,” Sansa replied, walking with Brienne to the kitchen to grab food. “Do you mind if I tag along with you to the flat? I haven’t seen Marge and Ygritte in a while.”

“Didn’t you just see them last night?” Brienne asked, scooping eggs onto her plate.

Her friend snorted, piling several strips of bacon onto the side of her plate along with a slice of toast. “I wish. Ygritte made the wise decision to stay in and do some actual work with Margaery.”

“It _is_ a Monday...”

Sansa rolled her eyes as the two women sat at the dining table together. “I already had to take diluted poppy milk for the headache, Brie. You don’t need to reprimand me. Even Robb didn’t get drunk.”

“It’s called learning from experience,” he commented with a sly grin and a comically raised eyebrow, finding his own seat. “And also being the designated driver.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to have lots of experiences, then.” Brienne rolled her eyes at Sansa’s jest along with Robb, who shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “Oh, come on, Robb! Mum and Dad made their signature scrambled eggs with bacon and hashbrowns and you’re forsaking it for _cereal?_ It’s not even _good_ cereal!” She snatched the box of cereal. “ _Cheerios?_ You’re such a disappointment sometimes.”

The eldest Stark sibling nearly choked at his sister’s incredulity. “Wow, I didn’t know lactose intolerance suddenly went away with Mum and Dad’s cooking. And I’ll have you know that Jeyne’s the one who introduced me to Cheerios. They’re heart-healthy!”

“Milk has lactose in it!”

“Not almond milk!”

Brienne watched the siblings’ petty argument in silence, barely suppressing her grin. Cat and Ned entered the room shortly afterward, the other three Stark kids hot on their heels. “It’s too early to argue,” Ned complained with a stern look to his eldest children.

“Sorry,” they mumbled, Sansa making good use of her blue eyes, which she got from the Tully side of the family. Everyone started chatting as they ate, the dining room filled with a cacophony of familial noises; it made Brienne miss her own family back on Tarth. Gal with his easy confidence, Alysanne and Arianne with their rambunctious nature, her mother’s kind eyes and smile, and her father with his booming laugh that never failed to make her smile.

Once the plates were cleared, Sansa dragged Brienne up to her bathroom to make her presentable. “You can’t very well head outside with your hair all tangled,” the red-head had said, working on the knots of her friend’s hair. Twenty minutes later, the two friends left for the flat to a chorus of goodbyes.

* * *

“Okay, so, I have a question,” Sansa started about five minutes into the car ride, staring at her phone. “Who’s Jaime?”

Brienne’s mind whirled. Had her friend heard her when she was asleep? How would she explain her attraction to Jaime when they’d just met yesterday and barely knew each other? “What?”

“Well, you kinda, like, said his name right before I woke you up.” She shrugged to feign nonchalance, but Brienne knew her friend well enough to know she was eager for her to spill the tea and was trying not to be too intense about it. She scrolled aimlessly on her phone. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m just wondering.”

“No, no, I just...um. We met at the beach yesterday.” Brienne picked at her cuticles.

“Mhm...” Sansa looked at her friend, imploring her to reveal more.

“That’s pretty much it!” The redhead raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I swear. I thought he was another one of those sexist bigots that’re threatened by my existence, but he’s not. We exchanged names and shook hands, that’s it.”

“Huh. Well, I’m sure you could find out his number using your techno-computer knowledge.” She grinned, perfect teeth showing, and Brienne blushed. “Oh, you’re so adorable when you blush,” Sansa cooed, pinching her cheeks before laughing hysterically. “At least tell me he’s hot. Is he hotter than Renly?”

Brienne looked back on her small amount of memories with Jaime before answering with a faraway look in her eyes. “Yeah, he’s hotter than Renly. He’s hotter than Renly and Loras combined. In fact, he’s practically a god.”

“Girl.” Sansa’s eyes were wide, a large smile on her face. “ _Tell me_ you’ll get this man’s number if you ever see him again. I’m _so_ jealous right now!”

Brienne looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I doubt he even likes me, Sansa. I mean, he’s so... _hot!_ He could have anyone—why would he want me? I’m not...my nose is crap, my shoulders are too wide, my lips are too big...”

“No. No self-shaming, it’s not allowed. You,” Sansa took her friend’s too-large hands in her dainty ones, “are an amazing person. If this guy doesn’t see that then it’s no loss! But what if he does see that and you see him again but don’t get his number? This could be a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Brienne nodded, pursing her lips in determination. “And it’s not as if it’s guaranteed that you’ll see him again,” the redhead shrugged. “Okay so like...what does he look like? Does he have a good jaw? How tall is he?! _I need to know._ ”

Brienne laughed and obliged in her friend’s request.

* * *

“HEY GUYS, IT’S ME, SANSA STARK, THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!”

“Oh my gods,” Brienne murmured, covering her flushed face with her hands as Sansa burst out laughing. “The neighbors probably heard you.”

“Sansa!” Margaery sang, rushing over to hug her friend. “It’s good to see you again! I hope you don’t fail the Calc test today.”

“Psh, I’ve never failed a Calc test before. Why start now?” Sansa hugged her demure friend back before parting with a spark in her eyes. “Brienne told me during the ride here that she met this hot hunk of a man at the beach yesterday.” If she was capable, Brienne was sure she would’ve gone even redder in the face. “Isn’t she adorable when she blushes?” the red-head cooed again, and Margaery murmured her agreement.

“Would you blades keep the tittering to yourselves? Some of us are tryin’ to sleep.” Ygritte poked her head out of the door to her room, her hair a curly red halo around her, but her expression changed from annoyed to excited when she laid eyes on Sansa and Brienne. “Well look who the cheese dragged in! Get over here you two!” The fiery woman exited her room in a loose t-shirt and underwear, dragging the two taller women into a hug.

“You saw us recently, guys. It’s only been like two days,” Brienne pointed out, weathering through the fierce embrace.

“Yeah, it’s only been two days since I saw _you,_ but this one...” Ygritte poked Sansa in the chest good-naturedly. “This one’s been missing out on girl’s night in favor of fuckin’ that Greyjoy guy! What’s his name?”

“Theon,” Margaery supplied from her position at the coffee machine.

“Right. Theon Greyjoy.” The shorter woman narrowed her eyes, arms crossed. “What’s he got that we don’t?”

“A dick.” Sansa was able to hold her straight face for a few moments before breaking the staredown with a laugh.

“Well, you got me there, Sansa,” Ygritte admitted with a grin, walking past Brienne and Sansa to the fridge. _“Ey, Jon! What d’you want t’ eat?”_

Margaery passed Brienne her usual morning coffee over the fiery woman’s back, grinning at the blonde’s surprise at Jon’s presence. _She put it in my special mug,_ she thought, smiling at her chestnut-haired friend. Her special mug had Tarth’s flag on it, and she’d brought all the way from home as a reminder of her old life.

“Uh...I dunno, bacon?” Jon Targaryen walked out of Ygritte’s bedroom wearing his girlfriend’s slippers and fuzzy pink robe.

“Oh my gods, this is going on WhiteBook.” Margaery snapped a picture of a wide-eyed Jon with her phone and typed out a caption. “This is priceless. Never let him live this down,” she said to Ygritte. “Never let him live this down.”

“Margaery, please,” Jon groaned, raking back his thick, black hair.

“Too late!” she exclaimed gleefully.

The girls laughed and Jon cracked a smile, settling into his temporary outfit.

* * *

After breakfast—during which Brienne showered and changed into her clothes for the day—Margaery sat her two roommates down on the couch, Sansa occupying the other side of the love seat. Ygritte sat back and put her feet up on the table, interlocking her hands behind her head. It was easy to see that neither the fiery red-head nor Brienne had decorated the place: the walls were all pristine whites and modern furniture with touches of color throughout.

The dorm was the three of theirs together, but an agreement had been eked out that Margaery would deal with all the expenses of the flat (because _of course_ living in an off-campus dorm meant one was essentially living in a King’s Landing apartment that Baelor’s wanted nothing to do with) as long as she got to decorate it. It wasn’t as if she had much interest in decorating or the money to do so, and neither did Ygritte; it was well known that Margaery’s family came from old money and would have no problem paying for anything, so the three roommates had agreed and grown to be friends since. Several years later and the only things that had changed were relationship statuses and college credits.

“So. What d’you got to say?” Ygritte asked with her usual smirk.

Margaery took a delicate breath, something Brienne could never do, before speaking. “My grandmother was going to go to the gala on Friday with me but had to go back to Highgarden because my grandfather did something or other that she needed to deal with. Anyways, I now have an extra ticket and was wondering if either of you would like to be my plus one! I know you two aren’t big on dresses and fancy parties but it’s for a good cause and Sansa’s already got a ticket.” She looked at her two friends imploringly.

“Marge...” Brienne started, apprehensive. “You know I’m not good at big social functions...”

“Well, it’s gonna have to be you, Cheese.” Ygritte insisted on calling her cheese because of how her nickname, Brie, was spelled. “Jon and I have had a boating sexcapade planned for a few weeks now. Can’t miss it.”

“Please, Brie?” Both Sansa and Margaery’s eyes were wide and pleading as the other red-head left for her room.

Brienne rubbed her hands over her face. “Fine,” she groaned. “I’m going to regret this...”

“No, you won’t!” Sansa said with such a fervent belief that she almost believed her. “Marge and I will help you pick out the perfect dress!”

“Besides, you won’t be alone at all, okay? Sansa and I will be there with Renly and Loras and whichever Starks decide to show up. You’ll be with _Renly!_ ”

“She doesn’t have a crush on Renly anymore, Marge,” Sansa stage-whispered, leaning towards the chestnut-haired woman.

“Oh, shit, that’s right! Oh my gods, so, what does that hunk from the beach look like?” Margaery was practically glowing in the filtered light from the windows.

Before Brienne could answer, Sansa pitched in. “She told me he’s better looking than Renly and Loras _combined!_ ”

The blonde went red in the face and checked the time on her phone. “I have to go,” she murmured to her two grinning friends. “ _Please_ don’t torture me about this, Sansa already grilled me in the car.”

Margaery sighed but nodded. “Fine, but since I won’t hear it from you, I’m hearing it from Sansa.”

Brienne didn’t answer, just gave her friends an embarrassed smile and grabbed her pre-packed backpack. She left the flat with a wave of her hand and a two-person chorus of, “Bye, Brie!” with Ygritte’s edition of, “Bye, Cheese!” She grinned as she shut the door.

* * *

Brienne checked and double-checked and triple-checked her code, but couldn’t find the error in it. “Shit,” she mumbled, going back to the top and rubbing her eyes. She’d finished the entire set of sequences in record time, but the unparagraphed code was stabbing at her eyes now.

“Need some help, Tarth?” Brienne looked up from her computer screen to find Will Stork standing in front of her desk, his buddies Mark Mullendore and Hugh Beesbury to either side. All three of them had lower grades than her, she knew, from their petulant grade-comparing last semester where they’d conveniently ignored her.

“No thanks, I’d need someone of a higher caliber to find anything remiss in my code.” Brienne barely suppressed a smirk at their triplet confused expressions. The whole class—all ten of them, including the professor—were well-versed in code, but when it came to English...some of them were lacking. She waved at them and they took her cue, walking away with enough shame that it showed in their walk back to their desks.

Someone slid into the seat next to hers and set down their laptop on the desk. “I may not be of as high a caliber as you, but we won’t know until we compare code, will we?” Brienne sighed and looked over at Hyle, all teasing smirks and gentle brown hair.

“I suppose...” she conceded, looking back at her code. Having a new pair of eyes _would_ help...and Hyle wasn’t as bad as the others, either.

Hyle grinned and switched their laptops. “Great! You can check over mine while I check over yours. The best gotta stick together, yeah?”

“Yep,” Brienne agreed awkwardly.

He found her error and fixed it while she corrected several in his own code. He smiled and thanked her for the help. Hyle sat next to her on Tuesday as well, and defended her when Big Ben Bushy walked up to her and asked her on a date. “Is this some sort of cruel joke?” she asked, sneering. “Bugger off, Ben. It’s not funny.”

“Please reconsider—” Ben started but Hyle cut off the larger man.

“She doesn’t wanna fuck you, fatso. Get lost.” Ben Bushy got lost (quite literally lost in the hallways of the lower levels of the science wings after class, according to Hyle).

Brienne waited until Ben was out of earshot before speaking. “You shouldn’t fat shame, Hyle. It’s not nice.” She furrowed her brows, glaring at her friend. _Is that what we are now? Friends?_

“Oh, come on, he wasn’t being nice either. He asked you out, you said no, and that should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t.”

Brienne sighed, rubbing her temples. “That doesn’t mean you should fat-shame him, though. It’s still rude.”

“Fine. Do you want me to apologize, Brienne?” Hyle asked patronizingly, tilting his head to the side just a tad.

“That would be very kind of you, Hyle,” she shot back, her blue eyes steely.

He gave her a dazzling smile and took her hand in his, giving it an assuring squeeze as he rubbed his thumb on her skin. He stood up and walked over to Ben before she could comprehend what he’d just done. Brienne couldn’t hear what Hyle said to the other man, but Ben nodded and Hyle patted him on the shoulder. “Done,” he announced, settling into his chair.

“Right.” They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment until Brienne looked away. “Are you expecting some kind of reward?”

“A smile would be nice, Brienne. I’m becoming a better person because of you!” His smile seemed so sincere that she couldn’t help but give him a small one back. “Thank you, Brie. It means a lot.”

Wednesday went without incident, and Hyle made her laugh several times. On Thursday, Edmund Ambrose approached with a bouquet of roses, Richard Farrow in tow. “The other guys don’t appreciate the fact that you’re a girl, so I decided that I would. I wasn’t sure which flowers you’d like, so I—”

“So I’m just a girl to you? Nothing more? Not a person worthy of respect?” Edmund blanched before scowling. “I hate roses,” Brienne told him in a small voice, trying to fend off memories of Ron Connington throwing a rose at her feet in seventh grade.

He walked off, tossing the bouquet into the garbage as he grumbled to Richard. “Are you okay?” Hyle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Brienne replied tersely, shaking his hand away before packing up her things and leaving.

* * *

By the time she got back to the flat, her other classes had pushed roses firmly out of her mind. Brienne toed off her shoes and dumped her bag in her room before heading to the kitchen. Stomach empty, she got out a pot and filled it with water, setting it to boil. She set a box of mac n cheese on the counter next to the stove and pulled out her phone.

> **Margaery:** we’ll pick you up @ 18
> 
> **Sansa:** yeah
> 
> **Sansa:** Marge, can we take ur car?
> 
> **Margaery:** sure. Wdyt brie?
> 
> **Brienne:** sounds good
> 
> **Brienne:** just text me when u guys are outside

True to their word, Margaery and Sansa arrived at eighteen o’clock, honking the horn a few times.

> **Sansa:** bitches are here and ready to roll!!!
> 
> **Margaery:** she’s totally blushing i can basically see your blush, Brie shkfhdskjh

Brienne _was_ blushing as she stuck her phone and wallet into her pockets and made her way down the stairs and out the door of the flat building. Margaery and Sansa waved from their seats in the driver’s side and passenger seat, respectively. Brienne hopped in the back and buckled up.

“Okay, so, we’re going to this place called Sand Snakes—I know it sounds weird but just hold on. It’s owned by Martell, literally the biggest fashion brand in Westeros. Dunno if you pay attention to fashion, Brie...”

“I don’t.”

“Well, Martell is named for the family who founded it. Anyways, Oberyn Martell is in King’s Landing with a new fashion line, so I thought we could go to Sand Snakes and try some of the new dresses on! They have a lot of different styles, so I’m sure we’ll find something you like, Brie.”

Sansa turned around in her seat to appraise her friend. “I’m thinking something blue, to go with your eyes...”

“Oh, _definitely._ Your eyes are absolutely stunning! They make me think of sapphires.”

Brienne blushed at the compliment with a small smile before Margaery turned on some music and blasted _Hey Look Ma, I Made It_ by Panic! At The Disco for the rest of the way there. Sansa dragged Brienne inside the store with Margaery close behind as soon as the car was parked, and she watched as her friends tried on different dresses. Sansa came out in a pale blue ball gown with layered sections of the fabric over the skirt and Margaery squealed.

“Oh my gods, you look like a princess! This one’s perfect. You _have_ to get it!”

Sansa beamed, twirling in a circle before turning to Brienne. “What do you think, Brie?”

“I’m with Margaery,” she responded without a moment’s hesitation. “It suits you really well.”

The redhead nodded and went back to the changing room, coming out with her dress in hand. “Your turn Marge, and then we’re going hardcore for you, Brie. We’re going to find you the _perfect_ dress—you won’t even be able to find anything bad to say!”

Before Brienne could say anything, Margaery was already entering the changing room. She settled with a pale teal dress with a golden flower overlay. “My grandmother told me that the ancient Tyrell’s sigil was a golden rose, so when I saw this one I knew I had to try it on. What do you guys think?”

Sansa sang her praise, complimenting the leg slit in Margaery’s skirt, and then they both turned to Brienne. “I’ll take her to see some dresses while you change. We’ll be looking at blue ones.”

Fifteen minutes later found her trying on a halter dress with a long flowing skirt that started off black at the hips but morphed into a deep blue at the end. Both other women had insisted that it would not only bring out the blue in her eyes but that the skirt drew attention to her legs, which were, as both of them insisted, extremely sexy. The top bared her freckled shoulders for the world to see and had a silver decal layer on it.

Margaery sighed while Sansa walked in a circle around her. “This one’s perfect, Brie,” her chestnut-haired friend said, and Sansa agreed. “You have to buy this one, it’s too good to pass up.”

So she did, hoping that she wouldn’t be given a reason to regret it.


	4. Jaime II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _I’m going to surf again. I’m going to compete again._ Jaime hadn’t surfed much after his and Cersei’s relationship picked up, since she’d always been bringing him to parties with her, and then he truly didn’t have time, what with work and the kids.
> 
> But now...now he was making the time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, it's been _months_ since posted the last chapter, and I'm so sorry about that! I've been almost done with this one for a long time, unable to finish because of some really intense writer's block. But now it's done, and a weight off my shoulders.

“Daddy! Daddy! Wake up!” Myrcella shook his shoulders and Jaime groaned, rolling over to face his daughter. Tommen was standing next to her, stuffed animal lion in his hands. “Can we sleep with you? There was a loud noise that woke us up.”

Jaime squinted through the darkness, attempting to get his bearings. “Yeah, of course. Hop in,” he mumbled, making room for the kids.

“Promise you won’t abandon us for the couch?” Tommen asked, hiding part of his face behind his stuffy.

Jaime nodded. “I promise.” His son smiled before climbing in bed to snuggle in between his older sister and his father. “Good night, guys.”

“G’night, Daddy.”

“‘Night, Daddy.”

Jaime rolled over to face the kids and fell asleep like that.

* * *

Sunlight slanted in through the windows, burning through Jaime’s eyelids. “Ah, shit,” he cursed, bringing his stump up to block the light. Normally he slept facing the other direction, but because of Tommen—who was curled up against his father—and Myrcella—who was sprawled out on her side of the bed—he was facing the wrong way. This was fine; they all got a good night’s sleep, and Jaime had kept his promise to stay with them the whole night.

But now it was morning, and that meant school and work and breakfast, which Jaime had time to make today. The cases at work were coming in slower for now, which left him a little more time for his family, something he never wasted, although most of the divisions of the law firm were swamped. Jaime carefully extricated himself from Tommen and pulled on some socks before shambling over to the bathroom to splash water in his face. Nothing like shockingly cold water to wake one up.

Jaime grabbed his phone from where he’d plugged it in to charge and saw that his mother had responded to his text from last night.

> **Mom:** i love you too baby
> 
> **Mom:** how are the kids? are they doing well in school?
> 
> **Mom:** text back soon Jaime. i miss you so much ❤❤❤
> 
> **Jaime:** we’re doing well
> 
> **Jaime:** joff’s still struggling but he’s doing better than before
> 
> **Jaime:** how’s your chemo?
> 
> **Jaime:** still going well?

A while later, Jaime stepped back from the kitchen table, which was laden with four plates of his special chocolate chip pancakes, a bottle of syrup, three glasses of water, and a mug of coffee. Taking a sip of the hot beverage before setting it back down, Jaime jogged over to the stairs. “Get up, guys! Breakfast’s ready!”

Tommen came bolting downstairs and jumped into his father’s arms. “Morning, Daddy. Did you stay the night with us?” He wrapped his skinny arms around his father.

“You know it, bud.” Myrcella made her way downstairs, followed shortly after by Joff. “I made chocolate chip pancakes today, too!” Tommen smiled before Jaime put him down to run off to the kitchen and eat.

> **Mom:** the results from the latest check up came in
> 
> **Mom:** [picture attached] i’m currently cancer free!!! 💗💗
> 
> **Jaime:** i’m so glad!! 😭💓🥰 Tyrion and i have been trying not to worry too much since dad’s got the best doctors
> 
> **Jaime:** the kids and i will be sure to visit Casterly soon ❤

* * *

“Alright, in the car, everyone. And don’t forget your lunches or backpacks! I can’t drop anything off in the morning, I’ve got a meeting.” Jaime herded the kids with their backpacks and lunches into the car, Joff in the front with him with Myrcella and Tommen in the back. “Everyone buckled? Good. Let’s go.”

The younger two sang along to the soundtrack of a movie that came out the year before while Joff plugged in his earbuds and ignored everything. In what felt like no time at all, they were pulling into the parking lot of the school. “Bye, Daddy!” Myrcella bid Jaime, shortly followed by Tommen’s, “Love you, Daddy!”

Joffrey said nothing, but Jaime told him, “I love you too,” as he’d done with the other two. As much as he would’ve liked to stay and watch them enter the building, other parents were dropping off their children, so Jaime pulled out and started on his way to work at the King’s Landing branch of Lannister Law.

He stopped by his usual breakfast place on the way there to get a box of doughnuts for the meeting today, making sure to get enough for his secretaries, Pia and Peck. Jaime shot a smile to the employee, whose nickname—Hot Pie—he’d gleaned one day over the phone when he ordered food for dinner one night where he and a group of lawyers he was the head of worked tirelessly through the night. He shuddered to think of the Greyjoy vs. Stark case from a few years back, especially since his firm had represented the Greyjoys, and now the Starks were staying in King’s Landing until their ancestral home was rebuilt.

“Have a good day, Mr. Lannister.”

“You too, Hot Pie.”

If Jaime didn’t have kids, he would’ve been surprised that a high schooler was working a morning shift, but the high schools in King’s Landing started pretty late—nine or so. He turned on the news radio, letting it play while his mind wandered, until he parked his car in front of the large, modern office building that Lannister Law occupied. Jaime’s footsteps echoed on the marble flooring as he made his way to his office.

“Jaime! Good morning, did you get peanut ones?” Addam Marbrand joined Jaime on his walk, peering inside the box of doughnuts.

“Of course. Is Peck in this morning?” he inquired, shifting his bag and the box.

“He is. Saw him deliver some papers to a few offices earlier. Oh—Gerion brought Joy in today; says she’s got some sort of trip that she’s missing school for.” Jaime made a noise of acknowledgment. “I can take the doughnuts into the meeting room while you get ready, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” he grunted, handing Addam the box of doughnuts before heading inside his office. Once the light was on, it was like a window into Jaime: at first glance, it seemed a pristine room, organized and imposing to any stranger, but upon closer inspection, the pictures of his kids on his desk became apparent; the short stacks of papers on the shelving behind the desk, waiting to be signed; the small row of flowers in a planter attached to the windowsill; the well-used swivel chair behind his rich, brown desk; and a set of three coasters stacked on another corner, looking to be made by children.

Jaime set down his bag on the desk and took out all the work he’d brought home over the weekend, setting some small paper stacks in one metal holder and others in an identical one with a different label. Once he was done, he sat down in his chair, hooking his bag on the back of his chair, and pulled open a drawer of his desk. Inside, there was a phone; he picked up the receiver and pressed one of the numbers. “Peck?” A momentary pause. “There’s doughnuts for you and Pia in the meeting room if you’d like to grab them before the meeting.” Jaime smiled. “Of course. Have a good day, and send my greetings to Pia, if you would.”

* * *

“Father, we don’t have the _time_ to take up another international case. We’ve already got every division working on cases.” Jaime raked his good hand through his hair, sighing heavily.

Kevan shifted in his chair. “He’s right, Tywin. We don’t have the time. We’re already spread thin with the Baratheon-Targaryen case and the takeovers from Baratheon Law in addition to our usual numbers.” Gerion voiced his agreement to Kevan’s statement along with Ilyn and Addam.

“We can always look into opening up a branch in Highgarden or Dorne,” Genna pointed out from the office space she and Tywin were sharing. “It’ll take time and money, but it’ll pay off in the end.” Her brother grimaced and was silent for a long while.

Tywin took off his glasses and cleaned them meticulously as everyone waited with bated breath for his answer. “Alright. I’ll look into Dorne and Highgarden.” His piercing gaze zeroed in on Jaime. “But someone will need to convince Tyrion to head the operations there. I need the rest of you to stay where you are.”

Jaime sucked in a breath. “You know that he’ll never work for you, Father. You _know_ that. Ask Lancel, or Daven, or Cleos! Aunt Genna, Uncle Emmon would love to head a branch, even if he shared it with you, wouldn’t he?” His aunt nodded, murmuring her assent. “Tyrion’s not going to work for you no matter what angle I approach him with.” Suddenly Jaime remembered that Tywin had bought tickets to the gala for Tyrion, Tysha, and Shae in addition to him and the kids. “You’re trying to corner him by sending him to the gala, to make it an irresistible offer since whatever Tysha and Shae will make on the people there can be used to pressure him.”

His father said nothing, his eyes conveying all he thought. Kevan Lannister broke the silence. “We’ll work out all the details of setting up an office in Highgarden while you broker a deal in Dorne. Sounds good?” He looked at his brother.

Tywin nodded once. “I’ll send Daven down there when the details are set. Meeting adjourned.”

* * *

Jaime had just plopped himself down in his chair, leaning back against the plush back of it, when someone knocked. “Come in,” he called, sitting up straight.

Addam walked in, phone in hand. “The ticket sales for the surfing competition we’re endorsing just went up. Do you want tickets?”

At the word _surfing_ , Jaime’s mind automatically went to last Sunday, and what happened then. Suddenly he had an idea. “No, I don’t. I’m going to compete.”

“Jaime, I— _gods,_ you’re serious? Dude, you haven’t surfed competitively in years; are you sure you’re up for it?” Addam took a step forward, brows furrowed with a frown on his lips. “Do you have the time? I mean, you said it yourself: we don’t have time for more cases. How are you gonna fit this into your schedule?”

Jaime wracked his brain for a few moments before coming up with a solution: “Pia and Peck can help with my workload. It’s not like I’d be asking them to do the duties of a lawyer, after all.” After the Targaryen case when he was seventeen, he’d given up ever representing someone in court.

No one would want the man who’d schemed to take down Targaryen Law—despite the firm having some really awful practices and being run (allegedly, at the time) by a rapist—for the benefit of his father’s firm. And afterward, when he’d joined his father’s firm, Tywin had expressly forbidden Jaime from representing cases that paid less than a certain amount, because it would be _embarrassing_ —which sounded as absurd now as it had then—for his son to stoop so low. Defending someone in court had looked like so much _fun_ in all the movies and T.V. shows, but in reality...in reality, sometimes it was terrifying and dangerous.

“That could work,” Addam murmured, bringing Jaime back to the present. “And it’s only for a few months, after all. It could be good for the two of them to get more work experience, assuming they plan to stay in the business.” Addam Marbrand wasn’t a Lannister, but he held as high a position as anyone underneath the position of Branch Manager—which was Uncle Kevan’s position—and was a close childhood friend of Jaime’s. He had about as much power as his friend did. “Hey,” Addam said, placing a hand on Jaime’s shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll do great. You were a real natural when we were kids, and that kind of talent doesn’t disappear, you know?”

Jaime nodded, giving his friend a wry smile. “Don’t forget to get yourself a ticket.”

“Wouldn’t miss seeing you surf again for the world.” With that, Addam left Jaime’s office, leaving him in silence once more.

He opened up his laptop, brought up the surfing competition’s site, and filled out all the information he needed to sign up. Jaime’s finger hovered over the finger pad before clicking the _Submit_ button. _And now I’m registered._ It wasn’t the Annual King’s Landing Surfing Competition, but it was a start.

* * *

“Pia, Peck, how are you two?” Jaime sat with his hand over his desk, fiddling with a pen in his fingers.

“I’m doing well, Mr. Lannister,” Pia replied, shooting him a closed-mouth smile. Ever since Jaime had sent one of their best lawyers to represent her in a case more expensive than she could ever hope to afford for free, she’d been loyal to him.

“I’m good, sir,” Peck responded, giving his boss a short but genuine smile.

“I’m glad.” Jaime set the pen down and slid his chair that much closer to them from his side of the desk. “I’d like you two to help me with my work, since I’ve decided to take up surfing again for the time being. I know it sounds like a weird reason to ask you guys to do extra work but I’ll give you hefty raises for all the extra time. How does that sound?”

The two of them turned toward each other; Pia widened her eyes for a moment and tilted her head towards Jaime, followed by Peck giving her a minuscule nod. If it weren’t common knowledge that the two were dating, it may have confused Jaime how the two were communicating, but couples often knew each other inside out, he’d found. His Uncle Kevan and Aunt Darlessa were much the same as Pia and Peck, in that respect.

“We’ll do it,” the young woman said, and this time she smiled with her mouth open, showing some of her missing teeth. Jaime had offered to pay for any procedure involving them, but she wouldn’t accept it, saying that she wanted the satisfaction of using her own hard-earned money to get rid of the mark her assaulter left on her. She had no idea how much Jaime admired her for that.

“Terrific! I’ll email you two the work for tomorrow and I’ll work on inputting that raise, too. Depending on how long that takes, you might be paid retroactively, but you’ll be paid honestly, like always.”

* * *

With Pia and Peck’s help, it looked as if Jaime wouldn’t have to take very much work home that weekend, which excited him. Pia already confirmed that she was available to babysit on Saturday, which filled him with an elated feeling of butterflies in his stomach. _I’m going to surf again. I’m going to compete again._ Jaime hadn’t surfed much after his and Cersei’s relationship picked up, since she’d always been bringing him to parties with her, and then he _truly_ didn’t have time, what with work and the kids.

But now...now he was making the time. The kids were doing well, the law firm was doing well, _he_ was doing well; so why shouldn’t he make time for himself? _I deserve this. I deserve happiness,_ Jaime reminded himself. For a long time after his divorce from Cersei, he’d felt like he was a terrible father for allowing his children to live with such a horrible person as their maternal figure, and an idiotic person for not seeing Cersei for what she really was.

It had taken years of therapy for the concepts of _I deserve happiness_ and _I am not stupid for being blinded by a narcissist_ to take root in his brain, let alone attempting to _obtain_ the happiness he deserved. Myrcella, Tommen, and Joffrey had seen a therapist as well, although the effusive woman had told him it was likely that, as young as they were, Cersei’s influence hadn’t affected them as much as it had him.

“Daddy, I need you to help me with my dress!” Myrcella called out from her and Tommen’s bathroom.

“Coming! Just give me a minute.” Jaime shrugged on his red suit jacket, not bothering to attempt the buttons, before gingerly running a hand through his golden hair. He spent only a few seconds examining himself in the mirror before turning off the lights and walking to the bathroom Myrcella was in.

“Daddy, I can’t get the zipper,” she said, turning around so Jaime could do it for her. The dress was a pale, muted pink with a skirt that flared out, something his daughter had picked out herself.

Farther inside the room, Tommen was fiddling with his bowtie. He had the rest of his outfit on, the blue children’s suit complimenting the boy’s green eyes and blond hair. The seven-year-old gave up on fixing the accessory and left it securely tied around his collar with a sigh. “Joffrey, are you ready to go?” Jaime asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for like twenty minutes!” the twelve-year-old responded from the entryway. Jaime grinned at Joff’s exaggeration of time and herded the other two downstairs. “We’re gonna be late...” he all but whined before heading out the door and getting in the passenger seat.

“I thought you didn’t want to go,” Jaime asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat, raising an eyebrow at his son.

“I don’t, but I _have_ to, and it’s embarrassing to be late!” Jaime reigned in his laugh as he checked to make sure everyone had the seatbelts on and backed out of the driveway.

Driving with one hand had taken him a long time to learn after spending so long using two, but now Jaime had the confidence and skill to do so again. “Well, we’re not going to be late. Just you wait.”

* * *

Jaime was right: he and the kids arrived on time, if not a little early. After they’d all disembarked from the somewhat expensive vehicle, he handed the keys off to the valet and herded Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella inside Dragon Hall. The building was built on the crown of Rhaenys’s Hill, where the infamous Dragon Pit had stood long ago, and was the place that the government in King’s Landing worked out of. Jaime pulled out his phone so the security guard could check their tickets and entered the vast hall.

Events like this, where the rich gathered to trade gossip and make themselves richer, weren’t Jaime’s style, nor his forté. But across the room, he spotted a familiar figure with pale blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. _Brienne._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occured to me that I forgot to show you guys the clothes everyone's wearing, so here you go:  
> [Brienne's dress](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KTtMUdvwXgy8usdaB5IbaChhqUwh707j/view)  
> [Jaime's tux](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1JzTWPojqsi9_eeRPSiyjg2W6JahtECNK/view)  
> [Myrcella's dress](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1JvVDco9eaCarIrnLeFMSTwfGhsz23pWq/view)  
> [Joffrey's tux](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KDeGTziv53iZGHb0v6jAB3QqYU6VpNwA/view)  
> [Tommen's suit](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KAYmlZmAiY2mI26TtBWf9VXuUY9O-kjp/view)  
> [Margaery's dress](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KF1GzqOzRq4s3uqzstpd-7KWKg6k8JOb/view)  
> [Sansa's dress](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KZBDrR_O37BPG-hDo8cwo9GxVd5oIERp/view)  
> [Renly's suit](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1K6fAj8YNpkxcKuI4eKy0G6dPPQocb-tz/view)  
> [Loras's suit](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1K4b4v8EO1ecSTnAfxrcenhVXWVEA7yMP/view)


End file.
